Timespiral
by Takhira
Summary: In order to save the future, Yuna goes to the past to do the one thing she never thought she'd have to do: rescue Seymour. The more she protects the whole of Spira, the worse her own future becomes.
1. Chapter 1

"Tidus," Yuna whispered. She gripped his tan, muscular arms with her delicate, soft hands. She pushed her pale bosom against his strong, muscled chest. Her body tingled all over and she desperately wanted to explore the feeling until there was no mystery left.

It had been two years since she'd seen him, touched him, heard his voice. Two years had been two eternities for her. She'd nearly given her own life several times trying to bring him back. Some people did give their lives. Some just needed them taken away. Nothing would keep them apart.

Nothing.

Her heart fluttered like a bird twirling in a sunlit sky as her hands moved over his body.

"I want you to—" she started.

Tidus smiled. His thick lips curved upward, only to keep moving on his left side. The lip kept curving upward, the curve pulling away from his mouth and slowly reaching the zenith of the arc. Then, faster, the flesh fell away, skin peeling off bone, going faster and faster until a large chunk was torn off his jaw from the weight alone.

Yuna's eyes went wide as the skin around Tidus's own eyes began to shrink away, revealing the two round organs bare in the sockets.

Yuna couldn't scream. She couldn't move. She couldn't think.

She was too stunned to move and helplessly watched as the Tidus's eyes melted from the stone sockets.

The remaining bone blackened, then was suddnely replaced by metal. A large metalic skeleton connected his bleeding shoulder to a severed flesh hand, a large round flat disc at the joint.

Images began to flicker before her. Yuna barely caught any of it, but the worst damage seemed to be over. Tidus's hair changed length, then color, clothes were torn away, thick armor appeared, a large charred hole appeared in that.

Just as the life returned to Yuna—her blood began to move so fast it burned the cold that she had felt from fear, her heartbeat began to pound in her head in a dangerous, deafening tympany, her breath rushed up to her throat—he vanished. Tidus blew away like sand on a hot wind with an edge like a sharpened knife.

Yuna screamed.

She kept screaming as the scenery changed. Around her the environment refused to remain still, images flickered, each image lasting less than a second. Once trees then crushed rubble and damaged buildings. Once fire, then blasts of the thunderplains, then thick jungle, then the interior of a tiny hut.

She closed her eyes as hard as she could and tried to drive the images from her mind. She kept screaming until she ran out of breath.

As she began to collapse from the lack of air, she heard a voice calling her name.

She opened her eyes, desperately seeking safe familiarity. Lulu was there, helping Yuna to her feet. Yuna held her head as it still pounded and struggled to find her feet as they refused to meet the ground properly. This was all a dream, it had to be.

The ground proved harder to grip as it began to shake, loud rumbles and sounds of blasts accompanying the movement. The light from the open door cast violent flashes of red and orange on Lulu's stern face. Odd whistles Yuna had never heard before shrieked, the sound boring straight to her brain.

"Yuna! This isn't the time! We're under attack!" Lulu yelled, shaking her. "Stand up! We need you!"

"Did…Did your change your hair?" Yuna asked. Familiarity was fading away by the second. She vaguely felt she was in the lodge that housed the Blitzball team, but the beds were gone, replaced with weapons and people dying from wounds she'd never seen before, nor had she eve seen someone survive with only so little of themselves remaining.

Lulu, the one thing Yuna had counted on to be her anchor to the reality she remembered, was almost beyond recognizable. Her skirts were gone, one leg replaced by metal, similar to Nooj's. Lulu was clad in heavy metal armor, making it difficult for Yuna to know what of her friend was real anymore—even thought nothing seemed real anymore. Her once long hair held in braids was nothing more than a short, close bob, all her adornments thrown away.

"What's happening? Where's Wakka?"

"What?" Lulu asked, setting Yuna on her feet. "Yuna, what's happened to you? Wakka died years ago. Don't you remember?"

"No!" Yuna shouted. She tore away from Lulu's grasp and charged outside.

All hope of familiarity vanished. This was not her home. This was not Beseid. This was a nightmare.

Blackened remains of bodies littered the ground; the occasional stubborn piece of unidentifiable soft matter had solidified into goo surrounded by char. The earth was scroched. A few huts were on fire, most were gone, their burnt remains mingling with the bodies. The ground was black and hard, deep cracks ran everywhere, like an infinite web of wounds.

Huge fires were exploding in the sky, which kept changing from an ugly gray to burning red and orange. Only yards away, people, living people, barely living people, had strange machina cannons, larger than cities. The shock of the blasts threw her to the ground again as one went off. Nearby the whistling sounded again, this time louder.

Yuna bent over and cringed. She put her hands to her ears, but the mind-tearing pain would not go away.

The whistling stopped. Yuna looked up. A blast went off, miles away across the water. A cloud like nothing she'd seen before rose up in a pillar that bloomed, creating a cap like a mushroom as a taller pillar kept going, a second cap bloomed, and a third pillar took off, with a third and final bloom.

"What's happening?" Yuna screamed.

"Yuna!"

Yuna turned, desperate to fight back against another monstrosity that dared take the form of one of her friends.

Her hands were caught as she tried to tear the illusion away. The person held on so hard Yuna's wrists nearly snapped into shards.

"Yuna, listen to me!" Paine yelled.

"No!"

"Yuna, we need you!"

"No, it's not real!" Yuna screamed, froth flying from her open mouth, her head shaking violently.

"Yuna, don't you remember?" Paine yelled.

"I don't remember anything!" Yuna yelled, struck by another flicker. No more huts remained. The bodies of the living were strewn about with the bodies of the dead. No one bothered to move them this time. So much was on fire and no one worked to put it out. Everyone seemed to know death had come, they only wanted to fire the great cannons that went off and take everyone else to hell with them.

Yuna screamed as she realized the face she stared into had changed. Paine was missing an ear on one side, replaced by a slim silver box. An eye patch covered her right eye—or where it was missing. Singed flesh around the area refused to be fully covered by the offending black cloth.

"Yuna, don't you remember? Don't you remember anything?"

"No!"

"The day Seymour proposed! That was the day—"

Yuna never heard the end.

All she could hear was a loud ringing in her ears and all other noise replaces by the soft waves made by the wind in a psychedelic meadow.

There was more to what was happening that day than cannons and bombs. That day, the attack on Beseid was successful, the humans had been driven away and the world, the bright burning world, had been conquered. From behind, Yuna had been struck in the back. She had been spared seeing Paine's flesh burst into flames as she was still alive. She had missed seeing those by the canon mowed down by fire and a wind that roe away flesh. She never saw the living, burnt and shredded like faulty lanterns, die in abandonment.

Yuna saw something else. He eyes were forced open and the tranquil fields of the farplane spread out before here. Yuna saw, yet again, the fayth.

……………..

Yuna stood up as the fayth of Bahamut approached her. Certianly, they would have answers.

"What happened?" Yuna asked.

Everything would make sense now.

"You died," the fayth answered.

"But what happened? Everything suddenly changed."

"How would the fayth know?" he answered, and Yuna had to concede that he had a point. "We can only see through those we allow to carry us, and that is when we are asleep. The images tell us nothing.

"However, like the fish in the ocean, we feel a ripple spreading through Spira… a ripple in time. The ripple is spreading, ever changing, ever-growing. The ripple refuses to stop, and new waves from all the time.

"I came to ask you, you who have saved us twice, to stop the ripple."

"I have to speak with Seymour first. He would know what's ch—"

"That is not a good idea."

"Why?" Yuna asked, about to pout.

"The farplane heals only your last wound. You carry your injuries here. He suffered many injuries before he came here, including losing his tongue."

Yuna didn't move. She'd never thought she'd feel pity for Seymour. Yes, she knew of his past, but… but she never understood it. How had it created the man who'd committed genocide? How could it make such a monster? But now… had he even become that monster? Did he become that monster if things changed? If he was injured so, did this mean someone else was behind something worse than he ever was?

Then a new thought hit her, something worse. Perhaps it wasn't him. Perhaps it was someone else and he knew about them. He was both a Lord and a Maester, and a cunning secretive bastard after all. Someone wanted him dead and quiet, knowing Yuna could stop it. This Yuna, not a Yuna who'd known the past that had really happened… instead.

Baralai perhaps? Was he capable of mutilation? Who could go to such lengths?

"What do I do?" Yuna asked.

"All you can do is guess. From there we send you where and when you think you need. If you fail, we await you here and now, in whatever form or circumstance that may take."

"What if… what if it's the same time as I was already there? Won't there be two of me?

"You will take on your own body. Be careful, though. Changing yourself could change time. In your attempt to erase, you may make new marks."

"Then… then take me to me just after Seymour proposed. Immediately after."

……….

And then she was suddenly staring at Seymour's eyes. She found it so much easier—just then--to revert back to who she used to be: a scared little girl who thought that just making others happy was all that mattered. She didn't necessarily have to save him, but… but staring at him, it made her unable to tear away from the desire to at least remember the injuries she knew he'd suffer and at try to let him die with dignity.

His gaze bore down on her. It seemed so happy, so hopeful… How much had been a lie? How much was just a desire to take over sin? How much was a rotten and perverted child's fantasy to please his mother? How much was a sick and twisted game that convinced him he'd see her again? That this would all make her happy?

She wanted so much to be her old self back then. Things were so much simpler with trust. For some reason a tiny piece of her heart begged to be able to trust him. But she had to play at that anyway.

"I… I don't know. Why… Why did you choose me? Of all people?" she asked. That seemed innocent enough, right?

Seymour dropped her hands, which she hadn't noticed he'd held in his own. Now that they were suddenly absent from gentlemanly courtesy, they felt cold.

His eyes seemed real. The depth to those lilac irises was amazing. He was warm, his flesh was real, soft, comforting. It felt protective. Why did he… how could he… what went wrong? Could she stop him from his madness?

"You know yourself far less than you should," he replied.

Which one did she not know? Herself now or what should be later? Or just something he'd painted over her?

"When I saw you as I first stepped off the boat, I saw what I longed for—what I longed to be—the most, and I felt my heart ache. I had to know the grace of feeling your gentle touch, the peace of hearing your calming, welcoming words. I caught your eyes immediately form a distance. You were like me, a half-breed. But unlike me, you weren't thrown away by the world. I saw you smiling. I saw friendship all around you, warmth, gaiety and comfort. You knew what I could only dream of understanding in my dreams. Look around you, the ones you hold closest to you. They are the abandoned, the outcast, the ones that so many don't want. I thought—I hoped—that maybe, just maybe, I could have a few moments of such kindness."

Yuna thought she was going to cry. Why, just why?

She was why it had happened. Because she'd thrown him away, because she'd probablybeen the worst out of everyone he knew. Because she thought she'd finally seen the light when to him, she was the light and all he wanted was to come closer and feel welcome.

She felt something touch her cheek and suddenly she was staring at reality again.

Seymour's middle finger was gently tracing her cheek. It seemed a terror was spreading across his face, as if he were just realizing he'd come upon a person not asleep, but dead.

He opened his mouth to speak, seemingly to accept his fate, when suddenly his eyes darted away form her and his eyes went wide with shock.

He threw her to the side and she collided with Lulu, hard enough to knock them both over. Seymour then went after Tidus, tackling him to the floor in the same movement as he had knocked her away.

Two spinning blades shot past as he did, grazing his hair as the two men crashed to the floor.

Yuna suddenly understood more. Maybe it was as simple as she wanted it to be.

Standing in the doorway was a woman, dressed in a light battle uniform and bearing faint guado markings; a determined and unfriendly looked on her face as she ran at them.


	2. Chapter 2

The took a running leap. Flippin in the air and landed on the table of food with her hands. Rapidly switching and turning her hands, she began spinning on the table. Bending her legs, she managed to hit both Kimarhi and Rikku, who crashed into Wakka, before launching herself off the table.

Again Auron swung at her with his sword, yet she proved more than he expected.

Another flip and she landed squarely on top of the blade, her weight forcing the weapon down. Then she stopped. She didn't move. She didn't breathe. Seymour's fist had met with her abdomen very, very hard.

She backed away, gently stepping off the sword as she held not her stomach, but her throat.

As Auron raised his sword to strike, she smiled, black bile dripping from her mouth.

She took out a new blade and threw it straight at Seymour, beneath Auron's sword as he held it in the air.

Auron chose to stop the blade, which left the attacker an opportunity to run as everyone else recovered from injuries, or in Seymour's case, surprise.

In less than a minute, it was over. In less than thirty seconds, the woman had calculated how to take out nearly every one of them. She had counted on Seymour's moves to protect Yuna and her guardians. She knew how to easily take out several people with one swipe. The only thing she hadn't counted one was how Seymour would strike back—or that he would try at all.

Seymour picked himself up and offered a hand to Tidus, who glared and stood up on his own.

Seymour quickly glanced at Yuna, and then turned to Auron.

"Sir, you—you saved me," Seymour said. "I don't think I quite understand."

"You don't have too," Auron answered. "Yuna, are you alright?"

"I'm fine," she said, forgetting to stutter.

Her mind was on what had just happened. Although it was obvious that the woman was definitely the one—or at least very closely connected to them—that was causing this dangerous ripple, she remembered Seymour too well, and the aftermath he had caused. It seemed that the simpler things got, the more complicated the solution for her.

"What was that all about?" she asked Seymour. She was positive that there was still time; that he could still become the disaster she knew, but that it was till preventable.

Yuna though set on her ideals and difficult to change in her perception, didn't miss Seymour's new comment to Auron. What did this hold for the future?

"I am not very well liked. Not by much of anyone," Seymour said. As much as I'm used to people wishing I were dead, I usually find the plans far more…subtle. And when guests are not present."

"Then it's settled," Tidus piped up. "We can't have Yuna near you. It's far too dangerous. Forget marrying her—forget being around her. Hell, I'm not surprised those fiends showed up at the game now."

Yuna winced, but Seymour seemed to take the blow rather well. He wasn't disappointed according to his expression. He was…resigned.

"If that is how you feel, Yuna, then I shall do my best to comply with your guardian's wishes. However, I cannot abandon the people as either Maester or Lord."

"My guardians do not speak for me," Yuna said, louder than she intended. "However…there are rumors that I can't exactly ignore without an answer from you."

Seymour looked as if he had just been told the sky was very blue today.

"D…Did…Did you actually kill your father?"

Everyone but Seymour, Tidus, and Yuna, suddenly stepped back. Yuna hoped it was from her old self finding courage she actually had, or the actual shock of the rumor than being out of character.

"On technicality," Seymour said. His words stung with ice, but there was no malice, hate in his voice, just resentment at reality rather than her for the facts.

"What…exactly happened?"

This was it. The deciding moment. Perhaps… perhaps she had to put an end to him after all. But what would that do to time? What if it turned out that she needed to keep him alive when he really was who she thought he was? What would all those kind words mean if he loved her and still intended the world's suicide?

"I lunged at him and the guards did not manage to pull me off in time. He fell down the stairs and broke his neck, and presumably a few other things, his neck was the important part. I spent two weeks waiting to die. I'd killed a Maester after all, and the punishment for that is an immediate execution.

"However, it never came, and it was explained to me that there was no one else to legitimately take over the positions my father left bare."

There was no lashing out. There was no rise to a challenge. There was… nothing. There was just a confession.

Now the ball was in her court, and she didn't know how to play this version of blitzball. It was her turn to react in a way that could change the world for the worse… or to keep that from happening.

"Why?" she squeaked. It was all she could manage.

"Since you've come this far, and because I do not believe in withholding the truth for one's safety: he claimed I'd whored myself out to Maester Mika since I was taken in to the church."

Yuna was at a complete loss. What she'd give for a reset option.

No one did anything. No one even rubbed a wound.

"I know it seems foolish, but I'd rather lose you entirely than give you a lie in hopes that I could ever know the affection you show your guardians. I've caused you far more harm and disgust than you deserve. I hope you will accept the gesture of paying for the expenses of a fine hotel tonight. Think nothing of it, or of me if you wish."

"I…" Yuna started. She swallowed, and her saliva felt like sand. Not even Yevon had the power to simplify this. "I cannot answer your question, Lord Seymour."

He seemed about to leave, to turn away and abandon them to his promise, so Yuna suddenly grabbed his sleeve, startling everyone, including herself.

"Please… I … want… I want you to come with us. Even if… if…"

"There is no promise you are obliged to make, Yuna," he said.

"Please? I…"

Seymour took her lack of articulation for shyness. He just stood there and smiled. He seemed genuinely happy. No cruel smile of a fiend or wanting something secret from the bargain showed.

"If it pleases you."

……..

Seymour began to show genuine fear when he found that indeed the guards that were supposed to be protecting the palace had been killed. He actually seem to be afraid for his own life, which was a good sign to Yuna that she was keeping him from becoming what she knew—had known—of him.

"Does anyone else know that you proposed?" Yuna asked, keeping her focus on him and trying hard not to look at the bodies in the hall.

"Not even those in the church," Seymour replied.

"Perhaps you should stay with us, if no one knows that we're here," Yuna said.

"Doubling the guards would give an impression that you didn't get such an idea," Auron commented.

"A decoy would be a good idea," Seymour agreed.

"If that's the case, maybe he can take us to a nice hotel," Yuna said. "If they think he's here because of the guards, we can stay there. If they aren't fooled, they'll probably think he left, even though there really isn't time to get anywhere safely."

"She has a point," Lulu spoke up, and Yuna sighed in relief that someone else understood. "We can't go backwards and there's not enough time to go through Macalania to the temple or to Bevelle."

"I don't wanna go through lightning again!" Rikku piped up.

"We can't just take him along!" Tidus yelled. "He has guards, and his own magic, and the whole Church of Yevon. Why should we take care of him?"

Yuna turned to Seymour and gasped. It wasn't just that Seymour had bought every single word Tidus had just yelled, but that stare from him… Seymour wore the exact same look in his eyes as he had just before dying, just as he managed the last few words to reach out and feel the gentle warmth she'd always shed on those she cared about. All he wanted was one touch, one glimpse of the pure light, one taste of the nectar of kindness, that was all he wanted before… before the blood, before the murder.

"Because it's the right thing to do!" Yuna shot back meekly, grabbing hold of Seymour so that there would be no more questions, and hopefully some reassurance. She was in charge. She was not to be questioned. In truth, she was scared of her decision. Her future was full of 'what-ifs?' and all she wanted was to have was one or two 'I trust you's.

A shiver ran down through Seymour so violently that Yuna herself was shaken from it.

"Seymour?" Yuna asked.

He wore the exact same expression as when he'd found his guards dead—no choice, no protection, nothing but fear and loneliness to fuel it.

Seymour tightened his grip, hoping to reassure her. "I can trust you?" he asked.

"Yes," she said. 'Yes, that is exactly what I want. I promise to be good to you. I promise to help. I promise to change your mind…'

"Then I do."

………

Keeping up with its usual pattern, nothing became any easier.

When they got to the hotel, Yuna realized adding one more person had suddenly complicated the usual routine sleeping assignments. Usually it was divided by boys and girls.

Now, suddenly, things were awkward. Lulu refused to be with Wakka from the start, but now Tidus refused to be with Seymour and Seymour politely declined, returning the feelings in a muted mutual way. Seymour similarly refused to be with Auron and Yuna refused to leave him with Kimarhi, and no one wanted Rikku with Wakka, or to explain why.

In the end, Yuna realized Tidus had made the mistake of not wanting Seymour to be with Yuna and she argued the point that Seymour wouldn't be dumb enough to try anything, being such a gentleman about the marriage and the favor they were all doing to protect him, thus driving home the point that he shouldn't try anything stupid.

Just as Seymour was about to attempt to offer to get his own room, Yuna told him to stay close in case 'something' happened.

So, with angry looks from everyone but Rikku, who jumped up and down waving and telling the two 'good luck,' Yuna tugged Seymour up the stairs, praying for an overdue time of thought and privacy.

…………….

As it turned out, Seymour wasn't anywhere near as talkative as he was around crowds. In fact, he was silent, standing on a balcony and looking at a patch of the forest. The trees were tiny and thin and far below the third story balcony. Anyone or anything coming at him would be obvious.

Yuna sat on the bed as he found a peaceful position, just next to patch of vine that draped itself from the balcony above.

She tried to think but her mind was blank with nothing but heated wordless anxiety. She didn't know what to think about, just that she needed to think about something.

As she tried to dig through raging emotions that refused to take form or define themselves, they began to grow. Things seemed worse the more she realized she had only dead end sentences. 'Will I tell Seymour about…?' 'How will I stop…?'

As she felt the unraveling questions swirling around her, she realized her problems were piling up, creating more problems with no answers. She had to stop Sin. She couldn't tell anyone what was happening. She loved Tidus.

And then she realized the simpler problems, which also had no solutions. She knew who would die. It was not just Seymour. The other Maesters, Kinoc and Mika had lost their lives as well. If she kept up her vow to stop Seymour's death, pull him back from a precipice he couldn't see in his darkschemes, Kinoc would still become corrupted with power. Mika… Mika would die. What could she stop? Old age? What would any of this do? What would Seymour do with them alive? What would they do to him? Kinoc and Seymour hated each other.

Something had to be done.

And thus Yuna came up with a whole question: 'What will she do?' She could not do this passively. She could not just let whims decide her fate and press on without a plan as she had done before. She could not survive on hope alone.

She realized she'd been holding her head in her hands. She heard a hard, rapid pounding and looked up, only to realize it was her heartbeat.

As she looked up, she noticed Seymour, one hand reaching over to her, reaching for her head, about to touch it. His hand paused in mid-air as he was startled that he'd been noticed. He seemed to be watching Yuna. Not just looking at her as he often did, but watching her, intent on her every move.

His hand began to shrink away and he looked away. Then he composed himself somewhat. His hand turned over, in a gesture of offering it to her and he seemed hopeful that she'd accept it, the way one is hopeful to feed a songbird from their hand.

"Maester Seymour--?" Yuna began.

"Please, no formalities, Lady Yuna."

"But you just—"

"You're special, Lady Yuna."

"I can't be—I mean, I'm not, I don't, I—"

"You are very special to me, Lady Yuna," he said, taking her hand and drawing her close, but never leading her to quite touch him.

"I shouldn't—I mean… I… I don't want to be. I mean, just… I don't want you to..."

"Then I never shall again."

If only he could tell her. She was sure… she knew. She knew with all her soul that he had her answer. He stood strong and still and silent, always. He could have been… he was her strength already. He always had been. Her hatred, her determination, her will to fight and live and prove… something… It was all him. It was all him, standing there, in front of her in a haze of nothing but emotion. But he'd been there, laughing to the skies, blood falling from his hands.

"I feel so lost," Yuna said, pressing close to him. For less than a second, Seymour felt warm, alive, and strong. He cheek touched him and she wanted to bury it against his chest until all the nightmares and questions were gone.

Then he jumped back, and she was left with a sudden cold against her face.

"Come, L—Yuna," Seymour said, and pulled her gently to the balcony.

Being shorter, she easily nestled under the draping vine, fragrant with flowers this time of the year. She was showered in a leafy shadow and the heavy touch of perfume.

"I've always looked to the stars when I am lost, Yuna."

"The stars?"

"Ever since—I've always wanted to be a star, Yuna. One tiny pin prick of light in the sky amongst so many others, all shedding light on the world to see it so clearly. The stars never leave the sky, Yuna. They wait for the clouds to part and offer you any path you want. The stars are eternal and peaceful and perfect."

Yuna looked up through the leaves at the black sky with tiny dots spread about, defying her mind's desire for a pattern, moving without being seen.

"But… stars can't feel…" Yuna said.

"You have no idea what I'd give for that," Seymour said. As he poured so much of his heart into the words, Yuna felt like crying.

She stared back at the sky, which gave her no comfort, only a cold breeze.


	3. Chapter 3

Yuna took Seymour's hand in her own and held it to her chest and closed her other hand over it. The unfamiliarity and empathy for her emotions caught Seymour in a tangle as he watched her lower lip tremble.

She had to say something. But she wanted to run away. She couldn't take this reality. Why couldn't everything be perfect, no mistakes when there were no secrets about what the truth really was?

"I don't want to hurt you…" Yuna said. She started off, all her strength in a whisper, but her strength soon faded halfway through the sentence. She collapsed, falling deeper than she'd ever fell before. She couldn't feel anything but her own naked, trembling screaming soul.

Seymour caught her, wrapping his arms around her and gently kneeling to hold her. He pushed her hair from her eyes as they twitched in a feverish, formless dream.

"That was romantic," a voice spoke, piercing through Seymour's lofty and existential dreams.

He turned his head so fast he hurt his neck. Picking Yuna up, he turned around and looked up to the balcony above him.

Above him, framed by the night-blooming, flowering vine, etched in moonlight, stood a woman. A thin arm held a small hand she pressed to her cheek. The other arm lay languidly like a slumbering cat on the railing of her own balcony. A soft pile of hair that was no more than one single curve in Seymour's moonlit view fell over one side, obscuring the twinkle of one eye. Heavy breasts, shaped into almost perfect spheres by her clothes, tugged at them for freedom, while simultaneously resting their heavy burdens on the smooth railing.

"It's the truth," Seymour replied.

"It's still romantic. Probably even more so, if it's true. Are you two lovers?" the woman asked. She pulled her hand from her face, letting the moonlight show her round cheek, and pressing down upon one breast as she shifted her weight. Her hand went to the balcony, careful not to come near obscuring his view of her breasts. She leaned over, pressing down on both, now, making their confines tighter.

"No," Seymour answered simply.

One strap of her top fell from her bare shoulder.

"If you're ever… bored… my name is Riana," she said, playing with her hair now. "I'm on my way to Macalania, then I'm heading to Zanarkand—"

"I'll keep that in mind," he said, and walked inside.

…………….

"Where's Yuna?" Auron greeted Seymour, as he stepped into the hallway.

"She fell asleep," Seymour answered. "What are you doing out here?"

"I could ask you the same thing," Auron shot back. "Especially since I'm not the one who someone wants dead."

"Yes, it would be a bit late for that, now wouldn't it?" Seymour shot back. "The room opens onto a balcony out there. Too easy."

"You're not as dumb as you look," Auron commented.

"That's probably what they're planning," Seymour said, holding his sleeve over his nose. "Someone a floor above us is acting a bit too interested. Anyone complimenting me is rather suspicious to me."

"Makes sense," Auron commented. "We should switch rooms. I'll watch over Yuna. You stay with Lulu."

"You're not as dumb as you look either," Seymour retorted, smiling.

………….

Seymour was not used to hiding. He was used to hunting out his own hunters. Most people tried to hurt him outright: an ambush, a range assassination, a political slander attack. He was used to finding out exactly who was behind the attack. He was used to knowing his enemies and being prepared.

This was no odd rebel and this was no hired assassin. Neither went after a third party. If they felt they had to, they made damn sure other Maesters or innocent bystanders weren't hurt. Just him. That was all they ever wanted.

But this enemy was prepared to plow through anyone, even if he was the main target.

This meant things were falling apart. There was a hole in the safety net he'd carefully woven for himself. He was prepared to fall, but someone was cutting strings.

Seymour couldn't retaliate against Kinoc without proof. He couldn't voice it publicly; he had to be the victim, not an accuser if this was a rogue attack.

They wanted to throw him off guard. They wanted him paranoid and disoriented. They wanted to take Yuna out of the equation.

That meant he'd have to fight for her. But that meant he'd have to fight to never fight again. Yuna could see the man behind the misfortune. But could she ever care about the monster?

……………….

Seymour opened the door to Lulu's room quietly.

He refused to give away his surprise as he found her awake and angry with him. It was the awake part that he hadn't expected.

Seymour ignored her. He wanted to think. He wanted to wait. He wanted to watch.

It only made her madder.

"There's more to this than you're letting on, isn't there?" Lulu shouted as he closed the door.

"Yes. And I wish I knew what it was," Seymour replied, leaning against it. "If you'd kindly keep your voice down."

"You're lying!"

"I'm not going to convince you otherwise. Do tell me the point of all this."

"I want to know everything behind your father's murder. I want to know why he accused you of such a thing and his exact words before you killed him." The words stung. Although unsaid, Seymour knew she thought he'd truly murdered his father. She wanted a confession, not an explanation.

"If we're exchanging secrets, then I want one from you."

"I don't see why I should be giving away information to someone as suspicious as you."

"Likewise. Could you please hate me without talking?"

"What exactly did you want from me? I promise you whatever it is I'm going to tell the others."

Seymour ignored the accusation that he was about to do something very wrong and listened for a few seconds. The hallway was quiet behind the door. "What am I to you? Am I the one who killed your fiancée to you? Perhaps I'm exactly what I am to everyone else on Spira: an inhuman creature, just like those heathen Al Behd. Yevon forbid I be a strange man near his thirties who likes someone eleven years younger whose past sets you on your nerves."

"This is a trap, isn't it?" Lulu asked.

Seymour's eyes went wide. He suddenly turned on Lulu and tackled her to the ground.

Lulu's breath was knocked out of her, preventing her from screaming. Even is she had, no one would have heard her over the door blasting inward into splinters.

Seymour quickly picked himself off of Lulu and turned to face his opponent. The assassin had fallen for exactly what Seymour had wanted. She was the one who let her guard down now. Guado don't need help from staves to cast magic.

She put her weapon back in its holster and drew her spinning blades.

Seymour smiled as Thundaga shot through the twin blades, burning the metal and forcing her to drop them on the floor where they sizzled and cooled, fusing into the floor.

The assassin cringed, trying to hold her ruined hands away form her, perhaps angrily trying to toss away the fact that she'd been rendered useless.

Her lapse cost her dearly. Seymour's large fist met with her face. Then his knee met her abdomen. Then her face met the hallway.

She decided the pain was worth the effort. She pushed against he floor and lifted herself, standing on her burnt hands as Seymour came after her in a rage.

He tried to tackle her, but she launched herself upwards.

Startled, he paused, stopping completely to watch her as she came down, landing on his bent knee and began to spin. She hit him twice with her outstretched legs before grappling in around the neck with them.

Seymour was too infuriated to be taken aback by the compromising position, as well as too focused on her not twisting his head off.

The lack of air was beginning to take away the adrenaline that had earlier turned the battle in his favor.

The assassin's legs fought against his thick neck and the vertebrae underneath and against the pain while Seymour fought to take her lithe and well-muscled shoulders from her bones as he fought for air. The two were locked in struggle and both refused to panic as they looked for a weak spot in their enemy without giving up or changing tactics.

Luck had changed this once in Seymour's favor. Seymour's strength, though waning, proved greater and the assassin's balance was worse than his, despite the blows to the head he'd received.

A gruesome popping sound was heard and she released him, throwing his balance off as she kicked away, back-flipped, and landed precariously on the railing on the stairs nearby. One arm was useless, but she'd managed to tip the scales back into her favor temporarily.

It would only last for a second, but she'd push her victory as far as it would go.

She was surrounded now; all the guardians were in the hallway and Auron and Lulu were prepared to strike. But a moving target is harder to hit.

Her light and even dainty steps clashed sickeningly with her burned hands and dangling arm as she shot down the stairs, avoiding the attacks by the guardians purely by speed.

Yuna stepped into the hallway, her shock at the assassin masking her embarrassment that she hadn't been there. She gasped as Seymour fainted. He hadn't moved since he'd set eyes on the stairs.

"Is he dead?" Tidus asked, in truth more disappointed that he'd only been able to wave his sword at the assassin.

"Look! You can see him breathing!" Rikku said.

Yuna tried to look more sacred of the assassin that worried about complications as she inched toward Tidus. "Do you think she'll come back?

"Dunno," Tidus said, refusing to take her hand as she tried to clasp it around his. "I'm going to bed.

"Well, I'm not going to be the one to carry him, Lulu complained.

……………….

"Shirrai!" Riana yelled, rushing to the other woman's aid.

Shirrai had suffered severe burns on her hands, and a other had been dislocated from her shoulder along with harsh scrapes and bruises.

"Keep quiet, they might hear you," Shirrai said, collapsing on the floor and panting.

Riana sat down and pulled Shirrai close and began to stroke her hair. "They won't win. They never have."

"They've never stayed with him before," Shirrai said. "She came back to him once. But we got her."

"That was our best, remember. We tore the church apart three different ways."

"And all that was left was for the Al Behd to step in and take over. He thought it was all luck. All to save the world and destroy Sin."

"What are we going to do now?"

"We wait." Riana said. "We're going to let them all decide on alliances and then use that to our advantage."

"Can we take him by force even with her still around?"

"He has many enemies, remember. We can always make it look like you were hired by one of them. And we can always come to his aid."

……………………….

Everything had fit into place before. It felt like she was meant to save Spira. That had become her purpose.

It was her purpose now. The Fayth had asked her to.

But…

But she was losing Tidus. She was scared to lose Tidus. Her fear ran deeper than love. If she was never meant to love him, if everything that made her happy was false… what was there for her? Why did the future have to be made of lies?

She wanted the lies to be real; she wanted no one to ever tell her they were lies. The truth had no hope. She couldn't love Tidus. She couldn't choose anything for a man who refused to be set as either good or bad. She couldn't save a world where she'd be unhappy. She couldn't stop what she didn't know was even there.

………………

Everyone was waiting on Yuna. She had to decide what happened next. She had to decide where they were going to go. It was her decision to take Seymour along or not.

She decided that if she was going to decide everything, then everyone could wait. She didn't want to be pushed anymore. Fate was not going to fly off on it's own if she could stop it.

Tidus was in the lobby, where he was supposed to be watching for suspicious people.

"Tidus," Yuna greeted him.

"Yeah?"

"You'd want me to marry who I love, right? No matter who they are?"

"If you want to."

"Tell me the truth," Yuna said, taking his hands. "I want the truth. The real truth, Tidus. I… I can't be in love with you if it's all just a lie, either way."

Somewhere in this new world, there had to be truth and there had to be lies. She didn't want to live if it were all lies.

"I thought I… I don't know Yuna. I don't think I love you. Not like that. Not enough. Don't… don't cry," Tidus stammered. He reached around her shoulder to comfort her.

"I'm not going to cry," Yuna said. "I just thought you loved me."

"I thought I did, but… I mean you're fun and all, but…. You've changed. Yuna, are you alright?"

"I have changed, Tidus. I just… I thought you'd like it someday."

All she had now was herself, changed, incongruous. But there was always Seymour and his stars, unchanging and perfect.


	4. Chapter 4

Everyone was awaiting Yuna's decision as to what to do next, including Seymour. He had nothing to offer, save for a tiny mention of Macalania.

"Those up in Macalania are up there for a reason. They hide away in the snow, near the Al Bhed to be forgotten, because that is what they feel is best for them. We all find a unity in our solitude from the world. That is why I went there, although I never expected to ever be given a position of power, let alone one so high. They may be allies within, but without, they are those the church showed mercy, hoping they'd never show they're faces to those who never needed it."

"I don't understand." Yuna had said.

"The temple likes to keep pilgrims safe, but they will not make friends. Not with someone like you. And the Church will not come to the rescue until someone like you is harmed already. Be warned."

He merely told her it was up to her, but that he would not feel any ill feeling toward her if she left him here to fend for himself. He was too damn stubborn about being fair and kind.

"I've decided to continue my pilgrimage. By I cannot abandon Seymour, even if my decision comes to us staying as friends."

Seymour was surprised, but quickly turned his attention to rubbing his bandaged head.

Everyone glared in a general direction. Rikku and Auron seemed bored and Wakka and Kimarhi didn't seem to really care.

No wonder Seymour envied the stars. They never had to watch out for other stars, just tiny beings below them that always loved them, no matter what.

…….

The trek through the forest the first time was uneventful, insofar as can be on a pilgrimage. Animosity was beginning to show this time. Tidus and Lulu were at the head of the group, grumbling, glaring, and putting more aggression into keeping a distance from Seymour than fighting the monsters with were more metaphysical than physical. Auron kept an impassive face, showing that he had nothing to do with any of it and was going to stay that way, no matter what. Rikku was bored. Yuna couldn't bring herself to discus her problems—even a small share of them—with her cousin. Wakka was doing his best to engage Seymour in conversation, and Seymour was having none of it purely out of the inability to say anything conversational. Kimarhi seemed to be having fun much the same way a sheepdog does.

It was a long day of tension, of fighting over who had the right to kill a monster or rescue someone from tripping. Arguments started with assumed allies and enemies, dissolving a few seconds later either in forgetfulness or another argument.

Yuna was actually relieved the problems seemed like they were no longer hers, and were soft, ephemeral things, alive one day, dead another.

She didn't know, but she was close to knowing what Seymour had felt for years, abandoned on a desolate island. All the problems in the world should not amount to a reason to lift a finger, and surrendering to the world's selfishness was so much easier than fighting it forever. Let the spiral take you, at least hate will embrace you with open arms, who cares that it has a knife?

Somewhere, somewhen, back in Yuna's old world, Seymour had gone back to that belief. The knife in his back was comforting in comparison to the one that had struck his heart.

…………..

The group was silent, save for the crunching of snow under feet and heavily, tired breathing when they got into Macalania.

Seymour had changed. He looked the same way he had before… before in another time. He was deliberately quiet, he held all noise he could inside. He watched when you thought he didn't; he watched everything. It was as if the room had narrowed to nothing but a bridge between him and them, one they both wanted to burn.

Seymour put her on edge with his caution. Perhaps it reminded her of the last… the other time she had faced him in Macalania. Perhaps it was because she didn't show up on his radar. Perhaps his tension was contagious, like laughter or depression.

Suddenly he turned his head faster than her eyes could keep up with. He'd found something. All Yuna could see was snow.

"Over there," he said. He was making it obvious that he had picked up on something she hadn't. "Lady Rikku."

Rikku took her sweet time in realizing he'd called her over. She jogged over to him, but kept her distance. He walked up to the top of a snow dune and she happily followed, wondering what game they were playing.

"Hey!" She yelled, suddenly serious.

"I take it this wasn't actually in your plans," Seymour said to her.

"No fair!"

"What's goin' on?" Wakka asked.

Rikku raced down a snow dune without saying a word.

Seymour was speechless. He seemed to want to say something. The longer time went on, the more desperate he seemed. He licked his lips, but kept quiet. At length, he bowed and slowly followed Rikku over the dune.

The remaining summoner and guardians stared at each other and then shrugged in unison. They headed over the dune.

They were all taken aback when they reached the top. Yuna understood why Seymour had remained speechless. Wakka began swearing. Kimarhi tensed. Lulu backed away from Wakka and crossed her arms. Tidus was happy. Auron grunted.

Rikku was arguing with several Al Bhed. None of them looked happy and they showed no sign of changing their attitudes anytime soon.

Yuna had forgotten all about this. She had been escorted to Macalania temple by Trommell when the attack by these Al Bhed had happened.

If they fought now, they'd been worn out and tired when they reached the temple. They'd have no chance of saving themselves when the real enemy came. But if they didn't fight… that would be the end. For a moment Yuna contemplated the restart button she'd recently acquired on life.

No, this one was too confusing. A repeat would only make things crazier, either with new insanity or old, and she'd have to know it twice if she started over at the same time and went through the same motions.

She stood and watched Rikku talking to them in the distance. All she could hear was noise, angry noise. She wondered if hearing the actual words would be of any help.

Without any indication of what he meant to do, Seymour calmly walked down to the Al Bhed.

"Wait!" Yuna yelled. She considered following him, but she could see him from her vantage point. She didn't know what he was doing, so she had no idea what to do about it. The best option to consider things was where she was, so she stayed there.

Yuna watched as Seymour strode up to the Al Bhed. He began talking to them. Yuna watched them, waited for them to raise weapons and turn on their strange magic-nullifying machine.

Nothing happened. Yuna wondered what was wrong. Why didn't she catch the hostilities?

Then she remembered that her past hadn't happened. With luck… good or bad… it wouldn't ever. The Al Bhed capital still stood. The guado didn't care.

Yuna realized the noise had quieted down, and they were no longer angry. Rikku had rejoined the conversation.

Finally, the Al Bhed turned around and Rikku raced up the dune. Seymour followed slowly, then looked up and sped up his trek.

"Guess what? Guess what?" Rikku yelped happily, bounding up and down, then went silent.

Wakka had swung his fist at her, stopped by Seymour, whose face gave away nothing save that he would be overtaken.

Everyone was silent.

Rikku backed away.

Seymour blinked. He kept his hand on Wakka's fist and stared into the man's eyes.

Slowly, Wakka crumbled. Seymour had called his bluff. Wakka could have started a fight right then and there. Seymour would have caught the hand faster than he had already caught the other one. Wakka's arm finally gave out and relaxed. Seymour had waited for it to be a feint, but finally released Wakka's aching hand.

Wakka spat at Seymour's shoes and stomped over toward Tidus. He kept his gaze fixed on Rikku and Seymour.

"What was that all about?" Tidus asked, loudly.

"Wakka's always hated Al Bhed," Lulu spoke up, glaring at Seymour as well.

"Kimarhi not understand," Kimarhi spoke up.

"Rikku is Yuna's cousin," Auron said. "Rikku wouldn't let anything happen to Yuna," Auron said. "Grow up. You too, Tidus."

"What?" Tidus complained.

"I still don't trust her," Wakka said.

Yuna was about to ask why. She was about to tell him about what had happened, but hadn't happened. Then she realized the answer. The Al Bhed were only good because they had helped kill Seymour, a bigger enemy. Now that he was... not that bad…Wakka kept his old hatred.

"And I don't trust him," Wakka said. "What kind of a Maester are you? I looked up to you!"

"You were babbling at him so much you didn't realize he didn't give a damn!" Lulu yelled. "You're so slow!"

"Stop it!" Yuna yelled. She could see the rift of her friends now. Seymour had lied, possibly to himself. She had not taken in the friendless, the outcasts with no one but her. He had taken in those who gave themselves no other options, and she could see that they forbade themselves from what they could have had on their own. Tidus was sent here from somewhere that didn't exist, just like her. But his world was different. He chose who he liked on what came to him and nothing more. Wakka needed someone to blame, and he'd chosen the Al Bhed. Only a greater evil could wrench him away from that hatred and then he'd be stuck on them like a hungry leech, draining their humanity out, leaving them a shadow rather than a person. Lulu demanded a class system. She had nothing and made herself better than others in some way. She had to look down at someone now and then so she'd feel that she was above them.

Auron, though, saw something through the eyes of someone who'd seen the final summon. He'd carried a drunk with him across Spira and watched him change into a real human being too late. Kimarhi judged as much as others, but he saw actions, not images; he judged on honor, not appearance. Kimarhi saw nothing wrong with Seymour, in fact, Kimarhi approved of the strange man. He protected Yuna, he had not yet cheated in any way, and he fought, though badly for what was right. Kimarhi found Seymour too full of words that he could not bring himself to care about, but boring was not a dishonorable trait. It would be hard to respect elders if that were true. Rikku also judged on actions. Hair was hair, a face was a face, a hand was a hand. Rikku saw no reason to complicate things beyond that. She'd call you out immediately for who you were, not what.

Tremors were wracking Yuna's group and a chasm was appearing. She had to choose a side or fall through the gap.

"What happened?" Yuna asked Seymour. She had given up on trying to be who she had been, whoever that was.

"I did not know there was such distrust for Al Bhed," Seymour lied. 'Distrust' was by far the wrong word. "I decided to talk to lighten the mood."

"He knows everybody!" Rikku squealed, defensively happy about Seymour's language skills.

"I wouldn't say 'everybody.'" Seymour said. "I speak it because I lived on Baaj Island for a several years. The Al Bhed would stop there every now and then." There were words unsaid hanging off that sentence like ripe fruit from a branch. He had known all along that the church used Al Bhed machina, including weapons. He had spoken frequently to those responsible. But it was behind closed doors, locked with disdain and threats, closed on people's throats.

Yuna could feel the ripple now. Something was coming. Something big was building bigger. This was just the water dragging over the pebbles. She hoped she could swim.

………………

Now no one was arguing, but the tension was thick. This alliance was as brittle as the ice. It was going to break soon and Yuna couldn't see any way of fixing it. Before, they had been united by a common enemy, Seymour. They had learned to be friends. Sin wasn't an enemy enough. The assassin wasn't an enemy enough.

For her, the future was an enemy enough, but there was no way to tell any of them that she knew of. She wished she'd lingered in Guadosalam longer, to ask the fayth if they could show the future or somehow just show others what she'd seen.

The world had been dying, then the dead were left to burn where they were as others fought for their lives, now, in the past, death was hanging in the air. Was the terrible future because they split up? But then, how did she meet Paine? Could she stop her friends from dying? The thought of their danger vanished once Seymour was threatened.

Yuna looked at her guardians. Rikku was now clinging to Seymour's arm happily as he paced himself with her. He seemed confused, but content. Auron was watching the two, pretending not to as he drank from the bottle he kept at his waist. Lulu and Wakka were marching forward, neither knew the right direction and kept alternating between following the other and marching off in an entirely new direction. Tidus was trying to catch up with Seymour and pretending he wasn't freezing. Kimarhi was close behind Yuna and Seymour, the happiest of the group.

Watching all of her friends, Yuna vowed that she would focus on none of them losing their life. Not even Seymour, whom she was starting to appreciate the company of.

As they continued, Wakka and Lulu began to tire and they both settled for not looking at each other. Rikku had grown tired of clinging to Seymour's arm and then tired of the cold. Seymour had offered his robe to Tidus, who insulted it and then to Rikku, who tripped over it.

Auron was scowling, but only because he'd run out of alcohol. Kimarhi was furiously trying to shake snowflakes off his fur, but he wasn't affected by the cold.

Seymour had taken up the lead, having trekked tirelessly. He was still watching for something. That was all that unnerved Yuna. Why would the assassin show up here? Or was he looking for something else?

Everyone was slowly trudging their way up what they all hope was the last hill to the temple, except Seymour, who was watching the other side like a hungry hawk. Yuna hoped he wasn't going to kill a rat, especially to eat.

Suddenly everyone forgot all grudges, all anger, and even lack of alcohol as a scream tore through the frozen air.

Yuna blinked and Seymour was gone from his post on the crest.

They all ran to the top of the hill and looked over.

Past their smoggy breaths in the air, they watched, perplexedly as, just in front of the temple, was a nun struggling to stand as above her, Seymour and the largest Yeti any of them had seen were wrestling as a young nun was running from having to be in his situation.

Even as their opinions towards Seymour returned, the crowd remained speechless.

One of Seymour's arms was in the creatures fanged maw, holding it's head. The other was trying to fend off the creature as he was braced to push the creature back. For minutes, there was no determinable winner, there two were locked in the weirdest embrace any of the witnesses had seen.

Blood was racing down Seymour's arm. Sweat was racing down every part of him, blinding him, making his feet lose traction in their boots. But her refused to tire. Finally, he fended off the creature's paws long enough to grab it's head with both hands and twisted with all of his might.

The corpse fell on top of Seymour. Now he was struggling. The dead weight pinned his legs. The nun ran off to the temple without even a glance.

The group rushed down to his aid.

Auron lifted the corpse with the help of a semi-reluctant Wakka.

Seymour crawled out form under the dead creature and looked at Yuna like a guilty puppy. Then gave the rest of the group the same look.

No more hawk like stance. No more watching for danger. That was what he'd been looking for: his people in danger.

Now he was forcing himself to stay alert and awake. His body was spent, obviously. His clothes clung to him as the sweat from his body froze on the outside and melted on the inside. His wound wasn't closing. His leg was injured form the fall.

"We should… get inside," he said.


End file.
